...On The NINTH Day of Christmas...

...My true love gave to me, 9 Ladies Bitching...

From Dior's last original collection in 1957, photo spread originally seen in Vogue (I think):



Pink Dress: "I wonder if I should tell those bitches that I'm actually a man? Ha! I still get more action than they do."

Green Dress: "Tick tock bitches, let's get this damn picture over with already. Shemp's wig is due back to wardrobe by 3."

Black Dress: "Who do those WASP bitches think they are? I'll show them an "ancient Chinese secret" when I spike their wonton with arsenic."

Brown Dress: "Like those bitches couldn't wait one more week for my bunion surgery to heal. Didn't I wait for their nose jobs and uterus scrapings?! God, I look like I have Polio."

White Dress: "I can't believe those bitches made me wear "the fat dress". They'll be the ones who'll need it, after I substitute their Splenda with weight gain powder."

Gold Dress: "These bitches are so self-involved, they didn't even notice that I have no reflection in the mirror. I'd feast on their blood right this very second, except I'm afraid I'd pass out from all the Valium and rum coursing through their veins."

Red Dress: " 'To the left, that's where we're supposed to be looking' ", those bitches told me. Now I look like the asshole. And is this a beret on my head or was my hair fashioned into a bird's nest?"

Black Dress: "These bitches make me sick. I should just throw up on them, right now."

White Dress: "Shut your stupid faces, bitches. I'd like to see you hover on top of a ladder in 6" heels. What is this I'm wearing, a cotillion gown?! Am I Scarlet O'Hara now? And what the hell am I supposed to be portraying, anyway? 'Weee! A woman's work is never done. Not even on her wedding day! Time to spackle the ceiling!'? Stupid Vogue art directors. I should just kill them all right now.